Drive-by Honky
God Damn Berlin
These rough-around-the-edges pseudo-twangers have more in common with Matthew Sweet and Freedy Johnston then Wilco or Son Volt. That's because the songs are more rooted in folk rock then country. Add to that a level teaspoon of college-alt and you've got yourself a band that's just edgy enough to interest the hipsters and poppy enough to please the rest of the crowd.
Drive-by Honky is the Lincoln, Neb., duo of vocalist/guitarist Dan Jenkins and drummer Tom Cabela. With just two instruments and Jenkins' impressive David Baerwald-quality vocals, they manage to make a big noise, thanks to some trashy mixing that pushes everything forward, filling all the sonic gaps. You'll forget about that lost bass before you know it.
The song writing alone makes it hard not to be impressed with this 5-song self-release. Opener "We Are For Sale," with its storming electric gee-tar intro, is too indie-sounding to be country. It's also way too urbane. Plus, it rocks. "Polyester Drama" opens with soaring acoustic chords and Jenkin's wale and chugs along at a breakneck pace until downshifting into an acoustic-funk romp. Don't ask me what it's about. There's something in there about being "fake," and the phrase, "Inject some venom in your life." Catchy, but ultimately meaningless.
"Not Quite Bernadette" is the happy twanger that K. Cobain never recorded, while "Never Better" is the one that most closely resembles the alt country stuff that I expected, with more than a passing resemblance to early Silos. The CD's tour de force, however, is the 7-minute closer "Sailor Adrift," that starts as an effects-pedal acoustic ballad before exploding into an all-out grunge rocker. This is summertime, stomping-around-in-your-pickup rock music that kinda makes you wonder what would happen if this dynamic duo ever added a bass and a second guitar to the mix. Methinks that ain't gonna happen anytime soon. Besides, three's a crowd.
Originally published in The Omaha Weekly April 20, 2000. Copyright � 2000 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.
Baerwaldesque vocals???
H
Hello
(view)
Drive-by Honky
God Damn Berlin
These rough-around-the-edges pseudo-twangers have more in common with Matthew Sweet and Freedy Johnston then Wilco or Son Volt. That's because the songs are more rooted in folk rock then country. Add to that a level teaspoon of college-alt and you've got yourself a band that's just edgy enough to interest the hipsters and poppy enough to please the rest of the crowd.
Drive-by Honky is the Lincoln, Neb., duo of vocalist/guitarist Dan Jenkins and drummer Tom Cabela. With just two instruments and Jenkins' impressive David Baerwald-quality vocals, they manage to make a big noise, thanks to some trashy mixing that pushes everything forward, filling all the sonic gaps. You'll forget about that lost bass before you know it.
The song writing alone makes it hard not to be impressed with this 5-song self-release. Opener "We Are For Sale," with its storming electric gee-tar intro, is too indie-sounding to be country. It's also way too urbane. Plus, it rocks. "Polyester Drama" opens with soaring acoustic chords and Jenkin's wale and chugs along at a breakneck pace until downshifting into an acoustic-funk romp. Don't ask me what it's about. There's something in there about being "fake," and the phrase, "Inject some venom in your life." Catchy, but ultimately meaningless.
"Not Quite Bernadette" is the happy twanger that K. Cobain never recorded, while "Never Better" is the one that most closely resembles the alt country stuff that I expected, with more than a passing resemblance to early Silos. The CD's tour de force, however, is the 7-minute closer "Sailor Adrift," that starts as an effects-pedal acoustic ballad before exploding into an all-out grunge rocker. This is summertime, stomping-around-in-your-pickup rock music that kinda makes you wonder what would happen if this dynamic duo ever added a bass and a second guitar to the mix. Methinks that ain't gonna happen anytime soon. Besides, three's a crowd.
Originally published in The Omaha Weekly April 20, 2000. Copyright � 2000 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.
God Damn Berlin
These rough-around-the-edges pseudo-twangers have more in common with Matthew Sweet and Freedy Johnston then Wilco or Son Volt. That's because the songs are more rooted in folk rock then country. Add to that a level teaspoon of college-alt and you've got yourself a band that's just edgy enough to interest the hipsters and poppy enough to please the rest of the crowd.
Drive-by Honky is the Lincoln, Neb., duo of vocalist/guitarist Dan Jenkins and drummer Tom Cabela. With just two instruments and Jenkins' impressive David Baerwald-quality vocals, they manage to make a big noise, thanks to some trashy mixing that pushes everything forward, filling all the sonic gaps. You'll forget about that lost bass before you know it.
The song writing alone makes it hard not to be impressed with this 5-song self-release. Opener "We Are For Sale," with its storming electric gee-tar intro, is too indie-sounding to be country. It's also way too urbane. Plus, it rocks. "Polyester Drama" opens with soaring acoustic chords and Jenkin's wale and chugs along at a breakneck pace until downshifting into an acoustic-funk romp. Don't ask me what it's about. There's something in there about being "fake," and the phrase, "Inject some venom in your life." Catchy, but ultimately meaningless.
"Not Quite Bernadette" is the happy twanger that K. Cobain never recorded, while "Never Better" is the one that most closely resembles the alt country stuff that I expected, with more than a passing resemblance to early Silos. The CD's tour de force, however, is the 7-minute closer "Sailor Adrift," that starts as an effects-pedal acoustic ballad before exploding into an all-out grunge rocker. This is summertime, stomping-around-in-your-pickup rock music that kinda makes you wonder what would happen if this dynamic duo ever added a bass and a second guitar to the mix. Methinks that ain't gonna happen anytime soon. Besides, three's a crowd.
Originally published in The Omaha Weekly April 20, 2000. Copyright � 2000 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.
